


Yes!

by dwarrowdams



Series: Rogues Do It From Behind [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, about goddamn time you two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5299922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowdams/pseuds/dwarrowdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilan and Zevran finally tell each other how they feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes!

**Author's Note:**

> And at last the romantic tension comes to an end. This is another thing that I've been wanting to write for months, so I hope it turned out all right. Enjoy!

After days in the Deep Roads, Gilan’s bedroll and tent had felt like a remarkable luxury.

 

Unfortunately, he still hadn’t been able to sleep.  His interaction with Zevran in the Deep Roads had replayed in his mind for most of the night.  It had seemed as though Zevran was still interested in him, but the fact that they’d barely spoken since then didn’t exactly reassure Gilan.  He’d thought that Zevran might say something when they reunited with the rest of their group, but the elf had said nothing to him since their return, which made the fact that they were no longer wandering the stone tunnels of the Deep Roads seem like a rather hollow victory.

 

Gilan pushed those thoughts aside as he crawled out of his tent, keenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep in the past three or four days.  Between the constant threat of darkspawn in the Deep Roads and Gilan’s constant worries about his relationship with Zevran, he’d begun to count even a few minutes of sleep as a miracle.

 

He couldn’t keep doing this, he realized as he stood, feeling the toll of his sleepless nights in his every muscle.  Tirzah was right—for better or worse, he needed to talk with Zevran about how he felt and figure out where to go from there.  Worrying about what might happen dulled the possibility of rejection—it would hurt terribly, but at least this stasis would be over.  If Zevran didn’t want anything more than sex—but no.  He couldn’t think about that now—Maker knew he’d done enough of that in the past few months.  He had to stop dwelling on the negative possibilities and act.  He would speak with Zevran as soon as he awoke.

 

Gilan sat several yards away from Zevran’s tent, listening for any signs of movement as he toyed with the grass beside him.  When he heard the slight rustling coming from Zevran’s tent, he arose, timing his walk just perfectly so that he would be approaching the tent when Zevran emerged.  It worked well enough—Gilan only had to slow his pace a bit as Zevran slipped out of the tent.

 

“Morning,” he said as he approached Zevran.

 

“Good morning to you as well,” Zevran replied, his tone carefully neutral, his eyes not quite meeting Gilan’s.

 

Gilan bit the inside of his lip, discouraged by the elf’s apparent disengagement.  “Did you sleep all right?” he asked, hoping to preserve the conversation for a bit longer.

 

“Well enough,” Zevran replied.  “I would ask you the same, but I expect I already know the answer.”

 

“Yeah, you probably do,” Gilan muttered.  After months of sleeping beside him, Zevran knew his sleeping habits far too well.

 

Zevran turned towards Gilan, his eyes flicking up to meet the human’s for a moment. “Well, since you are awake, I suppose you’ll want to get moving soon,” he said.  “Should we begin pulling up the camp?”

 

“No rush,” Gilan said.  “I want to talk with you first.  Do you have a sec?”

 

“Of course,” Zevran replied.  “What would you like to discuss?”

 

Gilan exhaled slowly.  “You seem different now,” he said.  “I was just…wondering why.”

 

“Hmm, I thought that this might be it,” Zevran murmured.  “Are you certain you wish to talk about this? I—I really do not know what to say.”

 

“Yes,” Gilan said.  “Zev, I want to know what’s changed.”

 

Zevran sighed.  “Very well,” he began.  “An assassin…must learn to forget about sentiment.  It is dangerous.  You take your pleasures where you can, when life is good.  To expect anything more would be reckless.”

 

He paused, drawing in a breath as he looked up at Gilan.  “I thought it was the same between us.  Something to enjoy: a pleasant diversion and little more,” he said.  “And yet…”

 

Gilan reached out to take his hand.  “Zev,” he whispered, “are—are you saying you’re in love with me?”

 

Zevran exhaled, lowering his gaze.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “How would you know such a thing?”

 

“Are you actually asking?” Gilan said.  “Because if you want an answer, we might be here a while.”

 

“Another time, perhaps,” Zevran said.  “I must admit that I am rather curious to hear what you think of it.  I—I know nothing of love.  I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of it, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill.  Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong…yet I cannot help it.  Since you asked me into your tent, I have been nothing but confused.  Do you understand me at all?”

 

Gilan gazed down at Zevran, amazed at what he’d just heard.  After all these months of wondering, of struggling to keep his feelings secret, of praying that Zevran might feel the same way, he finally had a spark of hope. Against all odds, this attractive, exciting and surprisingly sweet assassin had seen something in him.  Gilan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive.

 

“I know exactly what you mean, Zev,” he murmured.  “I’ve felt the same way for…months now.  Although I should warn you that I’m not exactly an expert on these sorts of things.”

 

Zevran smiled.  “That is perfectly all right,” he said.  “All I need to know is if there might be some future for us—some possibility of…I do not know what.”

 

Gilan took a step closer to him, wrapping his arms about the elf’s waist.  “Zev,” he began, “with the Blight and everything that’s happening now…I don’t know.  I don’t want to make you promises that I can’t keep.  But I do know how I feel about you—and that I want to be with you for as long as I can.”

 

“Then we need say no more,” Zevran said, his hand brushing up against Gilan’s thigh.  “That is all I wished to hear.”

 

“Good,” Gilan murmured, leaning down to kiss Zevran’s forehead.  He was still in awe—somehow everything had worked out all right.  True, there was still plenty that could go wrong, but he wouldn’t think about that now.  All that mattered was that Zevran wanted to be with him.  He leaned down to kiss Zevran’s cheek, his lips slowly moving down towards the elf’s jaw.

 

Zevran sighed contentedly as Gilan’s lips traced across his face.  “I am sorry for acting so strangely,” he said.  “I think I will be better now.  Much better.”

 

“Yeah,” Gilan murmured as he wrapped his arms around Zevran, pulling him closer.  “I think I will too.”


End file.
